


apricity

by cottontale



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Achilles is a dancer and plays rugby, Alternate Universe - College/University, Briseis is sleep deprived and gay, Comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Patroclus is a weightlifter and a mess, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-10 06:11:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14731439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottontale/pseuds/cottontale
Summary: apricity: (n.) the warmth of the sun in the winterAchilles never lies. Patroclus will, for him. Especially if it means holding his hand in front of friends and coworkers.





	1. book one

Why am I not good enough?

That was the thought of the day and Patroclus watched on the sidelines. It drove him insane to think both negative and positive thoughts so early in the morning. October’s chilled fingers ran down his spine with each bite of wind and he wished he’d accepted that sweatshirt. The same soft, worn sweatshirt lay abandoned on the player’s bench. Only the coach was close enough to pass it along, but Chiron was too busy watching his players.

The sun was hidden behind pregnant, grey clouds. He could smell the oncoming snow and felt ridiculous shivering in only a sweater.

Foot long asleep, Patroclus stretched out regretfully . The cold swarmed into his chest, through his throat and out of his teeth.

Why am I so stupid?

Second thought for the day.

Waking up this early on a Monday was something he promised to never do again. Like he promised every Monday morning.

Barefeet paused before him.

“Are you sure--”

“Yes.” He bit out, snapping at his best friend, swirling his painful and snoozing foot in the air.

Achilles grinned, looking smug, unaffected by Patroclus’ outburst. His hair was tied back , the braid Patroclus had managed this morning on the bus falling apart. The jersey he wore was inside out, yet no one dared comment. Mostly , Patroclus thought, because everything looked good on Achilles, worn incorrectly or not. Smug bastard.

“I can’t believe Chiron is letting you play barefoot.” Patroclus glared at the offending red toes so close to his own frozen, double layered socks and boots.

“He hasn’t noticed yet.” Achilles hopped up and down, his breath steaming. “I’m honestly waiting until he does.”

“He’ll make you do suicides.”

The athlete shrugged. Patroclus had only ever seen him winded once. It was during a game against the Trojans their freshman year of college. Hector had given him a real fight. Patroclus broke his arm because of the senior. Achilles broke Hector’s collarbone in retaliation. Suspension followed, until Patroclus quit rugby and picked up weightlifting. Achilles was allowed to play after a semester off.

“You better keep playing, at least. Don’t make me sit here in the cold for nothing. Although,” Patroclus paused, looking pointedly to Chiron. “What I wouldn’t give to see him make you do indian sprints.”

Achilles looked betrayed.

“You wouldn’t.”

Patroclus looked him in the eyes and struggled to keep his face blank.

“Try me.”

Impossibly quick, Achilles darted off again into the practice. Patroclus barely blinked before the yellow sweatshirt hit him in the face.

He lost the battle and grinned stupidly into Achilles’ clothes, giggling. He caught the tail end of Achilles’ own laughter.

“Pelides! GET YOUR SHOES ON!”

* * *

 

Patroclus had only two classes on Mondays, which he sailed through in a daze. Art history was a favorite of his, yet studying cubism made even his brain clock out. His next was Euclides math and observation, which lasted two hours and ended with an assignment he knew would be trouble .

A great start to his week.

His classmates were easily considered friends, and they worked through the first part of the assignment together while the professor excused them early . Patroclus immediately sat next to Odysseus.

The older man was finishing up his Masters in Mathematics and about to start his second in Engineering . Patroclus never really disliked the man, but he couldn't say he ever liked him much either. He was slippery with his words, his grey eyes bright and uncomfortable, and seemed to find everything amusing, like he knew about the joke everyone didn't even know was being said .

But they finished their assignment within an hour, and everyone let out a collective breath. Odysseus looked unbothered.

“Nice sweatshirt,” the man commented, putting away his textbooks in his leather shoulder bag . Patroclus was both envious and undecided of such a bag, but knew Achilles would call him a hipster if he had one.

“Oh. It’s not mine. I borrowed it from Achilles this morning.”

His eyebrows raised into his salt and pepper curls.

“Indeed. Thought it looked a bit big on you. Never understood to whole ‘stealing sweatshirts from your boyfriends’ until I stole one from my wife . She’s never getting it back.”

His pen slipped from his fingers and clattered on the ground, the loudest sound in the room. Patroclus hadn’t even noticed he and Odysseus were the only two left in the empty classroom.

He narrowed his eyes, struggling to keep his heart rate down at the misunderstanding.

“We’re not dating.”

“No?” Odysseus looked surprised, but also still humorous. “With the way he always talks about you, I just assumed.”

Patroclus felt his patience thin . He knew this game. Yet, a tiny flare of hope brightened in his chest. Knowing that he was falling into the trap, and counting on his own wit to keep him from getting caught, Patroclus tilted his head in faux-surprise .

“He does? Do you have a class with him this semester?”

“He never shuts up, to be honest.” He rubbed three fingers across his bearded mouth and shrugged. “No, I don’t. He’s friends with my wife and her sisters. They take dancing classes together on the weekends.”

This time, Patroclus felt his concentration at keeping afloat snap. He was hooked .

“Dancing classes?”

“He didn’t tell you? Shame. He’s a wonderful dancer. They even put him in dresses and he never complains.” Odysseus chuckled. “He’s the only male dancer, so the women have a bit of fun. They have a performance coming up, before midterms. You should come with me to watch.”

Patroclus lowered his head.

“Do you happen to have pictures?” Achilles in a dress was a far too tempting idea to pass for his dignity.

Grey eyes locked with his own, infinitely amused.

“I have something better.”

The older man pulled out his phone and struggled for a moment to open the correct app. Patroclus felt like laughing.

His snicker died in his throat once Odysseus finally figured out how to work his phone.

Achilles should have looked ridiculous. The laws of everything good in this world should have let Patroclus at least have one victory over his best friend . But his hair was in a complicated braid that caressed his broad back, the dress open like an upside down ‘v’. His golden spine dipped as he moved, until the video zoomed out clumsily and Patroclus choked.

The women around Achilles were at his feet, dancing their piece on the floor. He was obviously the center of attention, in this particular choreography. His ankles were covered in bangles, barefoot again. The loose, white dress flashed far too much of his legs and Patroclus had to shift in his seat. But then Achilles turned directly into the camera, arms moving in the bollywood-like dance . Arms that were bigger than his head and that easily could bench press Patroclus (which Achilles had, just to see if he could) .

The front of the dress also opened just like the back. For a woman, it would have covered her breasts like a sling and nothing else. On Achilles, it was almost useless in its purpose.

A golden necklace bounced against his stomach, a pair sapphire earrings almost tangling in his loose hairs from the slipping braid .

Then a squawk of indignation, Achilles dropping his arms and darting for the camera.

Patroclus heard an, “Oh shit!” that sounded just like Odysseus before the video cut off, blurring on the edges of golden and white.

“He deleted it immediately,” Odysseus broke the tension and Patroclus snapped his head away from the video so hard, he felt his neck crack . “But my phone syncs with the Cloud. So alas,” he waved the phone in the air. “Blackmail.”

Patroclus didn’t know what to say. His jaw was still on the floor and he didn’t know how to pick it up.

Achilles in a dress wasn’t something he’d thought about before. He’d thought of Achilles in his tight jersey. He’d thought of Achilles in baseball pants, his rugby pants, no pants. But now, his life was officially ruined.

He imagined the softness of the flowing dress over his best friend’s golden skin. The flash of jeweled ankles, blankets of white over thick thighs, the front of the dress barely covering his chest. Patroclus felt his face heat up and neck begin to sweat. The front of the dress moved in his mind, cupped his pecs until his movement pulled it over his nipples.

“But you’re not dating.” Odysseus clapped a hand on Patroclus’ shoulder, startling him from his fantasy.

“No.” His throat was parched. “We’re not dating.”

Odysseus nodded solemnly.

“Huh. The way he talks about you, I just assumed. I thought he danced for you.” He pulled his bag on his shoulder and stood. “No one dances thatbeautifully unless they’re in love.”

Patroclus felt like he missed something. It was a bit strange and old fashioned to say something like that. But he didn’t know anything about dancing and he knew Achilles wasn’t in love with anybody. He would have told him.

“We’ve known each other since we were old enough to know someone.” He told Odysseus, following him out of the classroom. “You’re not the first person to assume we’ve dated.”

“Oh?” He opened the door to the quad and a breeze of snow smacked Patroclus in the face. “Food for thought, then.”

The man disappeared into the swarm of hurrying students and Patroclus blinked stupidly for a few seconds . His brain eventually joined him from the empty classroom and he hurried to catch up.  "Send me that video!"

But Odysseus was gone and Patroclus was late to pick up Achilles from work.

* * *

 

Armed with a donut and cup of coffee, Patroclus opened the door to the restaurant. The warmth from the heaters blasted on his frozen head and he let out a blissful sigh.

The hostess looked up quickly from her phone before she relaxed.

"Hey, Patroclus. He's in the back rolling silverware. I can grab him for you."

"Thanks, Helen."

The pretty woman hopped from her seat behind the big desk and walked into the kitchen. It was in the graceful trot that Patroclus put two and two together. Helen was sister's with Penelope, Odysseus' wife. She danced with Achilles, too.

Hoping his red face would be excused as the weather destroying his complexion, Patroclus smiled at his best friend as he opened the kitchen doors . He held up his offerings of coffee and donuts. Achilles sparkled.

His dress uniform was a white button up, black tie, and apron over black pants, with his long hair tied back. Today, it was in a french braid with a spoon sticking out of it.

Patroclus guessed Briseis.

“You’re the love of my life,” Achille jogged up to him and took the bag. He ate it in two bites. “I don’t like coffee though.”

“It’s not for you.” Patroclus laughed at his hurt expression. “You’re not the only person I bring goodies to.”

“You’re cheating on him?” Briseis popped up behind him. Her eyes grew wide, taking in the coffee. “Oh my god. Yes. Finally, leave this giant puppy for me!”

She grabbed the coffee and hummed in delight at the taste. Achilles looked torn between murder and affection. Such was their relationship.

“I am not a puppy.” Achilles finally said, swallowing the rest of the donut. He looked to Patroclus for help. “I’m not a puppy.”

“More like giant lion that likes to step on me and eat my food.”

Briseis rolled her eyes.

“Come on giant lion, we have to finish this rack of silverware before you can check out.” She said, taking Achilles by the arm. He let her take him to the back, only tolerating her now. His patience ran thin with the girl on most days.

Patroclus took a seat at the bar, waiting and jiggling his foot. Every once and awhile, he’d see the braid and spoon from the kitchen window. He wondered if Achilles knew and how long it would take for him to notice.

The bartender finally spotted him among her guests. She looked new and didn’t recognize him, setting down a menu.

“Hey, how are you? Can I get you something to drink?”

Patroclus smiled.

“No, thanks. I’m waiting for Achilles.”

“Oh.” She colored, looking curious. “Are you his boyfriend, Patroclus?”

“Huh?” His chin slipped out of his hand in surprise.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you might be him. Achilles always talks about his boyfriend Patroclus. You look just like him, I guess.”

As if forgetting what he looked like, Patroclus looked down. Sweatpants, the yellow sweatshirt he borrowed, a winter hat on his head and the empty paper bag in his lap. Nope, definitely not boyfriend material.

“Hey, babe.”

Achilles curled around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. He smiled to the bartender.

“I’ll see you Wednesday.” He said to her and pulled Patroclus to his feet. He grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. Patroclus swallowed his heart, feet on autopilot.

As soon as they were outside and around the corner, Achilles withdrew his hand and started to do squats.

“W-What… what are you doing? What was that?” Patroclus choked out.

Achilles started to whine and kept up his squats. People around them started to stare.

“Achilles,” Patroclus squatted to his level and grabbed his shoulders to pause his rhythm . “Babe?”

That got his attention. His face was red and his green eyes were wide.

“I’m so sorry.” Achilles whispered. “It just happened. Briseis told them I was dating you, as a joke. They took it seriously .”

Patroclus understood now, knowing Briseis and her humor. It was hard to pick up. And honestly , Briseis probably wanted those girls for herself.

Achilles never lied. And now that he was caught up in one, he was panicking.

“Work has been so much better since they think we’re dating though, so I haven’t told them Briseis lied. They treat me like a normal person. It’s so nice.”

Patroclus was so close to just saying, “Well, then let’s actually date so you’re not lying.” Instead, he just laughed.

“So you are mortal,” he kept on laughing. Achilles frowned and pushed him over. He landed in the snow and wasn’t even mad. “I’m sorry, babe. ”

Achille stood then and offered a hand, even though he didn’t look happy about it.

“Don’t be mad, babe,” Patroclus said, still giggling, mostly enjoying that he had an excuse to voice his pet names aloud now . “ Seriously though.”

His best friend dusted off his pants of snow before rolling his eyes.

“It’s kind of funny, I have to admit.” Achille said. “But they told Helen, who told everyone.”

“Oh.” Patroclus stopped laughing abruptly . “That’s why Odysseus was weird this morning.”

Achilles groaned.

“He knows?” He took off his apron in a huff. “Now the entire team knows.”

The rugby team was a group of bullies, in Patroclus’ opinion. Another reason he quit two years ago.

“You don’t think they’ll give you trouble about it?”

Achilles looked genuinely confused.

“No, why would they?”

He’d never known ridicule in his life. Patroclus almost felt bad.

“They never really liked me.” Patroclus admitted.

“What?” Achilles stopped in the middle of the street. “That’s not true. Everyone really likes you. Ajax asked about you yesterday, said he saw you in the gym. He was impressed with your deadlifts.”

Patroclus blushed.

“Odysseus thinks the world of you too. He won’t stop talking about your class together. All the guys miss you on the team. You were ruthless.”

Coming from Achilles, who was feared by nearly all university rugby teams, Patroclus felt a bit better.

“I miss rugby.” He admitted. “Being on a team with you was fun.”

“You should join again!” Achilles looked about to burst with excitement. “Chiron still complains about your position not being properly filled.”

Patroclus laughed softly . They made it to the bus stop and sat on the bench. He would never be able to be on a team with Achilles again. Hector had been sent to the hospital for an accident. Achilles couldn’t play 100% if Patroclus was on the field making a mess and hurting himself.

“I like weightlifting. We have a good team this semester. There’s a competition this coming January.”

Achilles grin dimmed, but didn’t disappear all together.

“I’ll definitely be there.”

Patroclus felt ready to melt. Then he remembered.

“Oh, yeah, I meant to ask you.” He looked shrewdly at his best friend, who looked like a puppy caught in the trash. “You’re taking dance classes? Since when?”

Achilles lost all color in his face.

“Who told you?”

“Who do you think?”

“Shit! He showed you the video!” Achilles hid his face in his hands. The wild movement threw the spoon from the braid and onto the sidewalk. He jumped in surprise. “What the fuck!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't find a patrochilles fic that scratched all my fav things like fake/relationship, pining, slow burn, patroclus being a badass.... so..... here i am.
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://foxicology.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

After double-checking they were on the right bus three times, Patroclus gave up trying to act normal. Next to him, Achilles was manspreading, as usual, but now his arm was behind Patroclus’ head, fingers dancing just shy from his hair, holding the spoon. His leg was bouncing with nervous energy, his non-slip shoes barely making a sound. Patroclus steeled himself for probably the most awkward conversation of his life.

“So… we’re not going to talk about it?”

The spoon dropped from his fingers and down the yellow sweatshirt. The athlete froze in horror, looking from Patroclus’ brown neck to the silver spoon slowly disappearing down his collar.

Patroclus took the biggest sigh of his life, retrieved the spoon, and gave Achilles a look.

“Talk about what?” Achilles made to grab the spoon, but Patroclus held it out of reach. His best friend could have easily taken it, but it seemed his guilt outweighed his desire.

“Oh, I don’t know, honey,” Achilles visibly swallowed, like he couldn’t quite stomach the words. “Maybe the fact that our entire friend group thinks we’re dating.”

His green eyes blinked stupidly.

“They’ve always thought we were dating,” he admitted. Patroclus choked. “Briseis just… thought it’d be funny and it caught on. It’s not my fault.”

“Not your fault?” Patroclus smacked the spoon on his forehead. His best friend yelped and slapped a hand over the spot. “Lying by omission is still lying!”

“Is not!”

“Bruh.” Patroclus resisted the urge the throw the spoon at him next. “I know you’re not this stupid. Stop playing dumb white boy for a minute, okay?”

The athlete straightened and his face grew serious. It was both attractive as hell, and hilarious. The red spot from the spoon on his forehead blossomed against his bronze skin.

“Leave your other personality at home,” Patroclus continued. “And let me talk to the intelligent Achilles I know is in there.”

“Rude,” Achilles frowned. “I’m always intelligent.”

“Nope, go away personality two, I’m looking for number one, thanks.”

Achilles rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. His button down shirt threatened to pop. Patroclus gave an enormous effort to look away from the stretched fabric.

“I’m listening,” Achilles finally huffed. “And I get what you mean. I shouldn’t have let them think we’re dating. But... it was an easy way out. They talk about boys around me! They ask me for advice and we rate the men at the bar on a scale of Toby Maguire to Brad Pitt.”

Patroclus readied to launch his spoon and Achilles jumped on him.

“No! Wait, please, let me explain.” Achilles was sprawled in his lap, hand over the spoon. “I never get to have girl friends. They either hate me or try to date me on sight. Please don’t hit me!” Patroclus rolled his eyes. “It’s the truth! Just having girl friends is such a nice change. I’m having fun and they actually like me. Plus, they say I’m rated as Brad Pitt, which is like, insane.”

Patroclus wanted to punch him in the face, but with his mouth maybe, instead of his fist.

“I told them you’re on scale with Idris Elba,” he weedled and Patroclus felt embarrassed when his face heated. He was definitely not in love with Idris Elba, nope, not at all. “Like if Idris Elba had a love child with Jesse Williams, it would be you.”

“Oh my god,” Patroclus yanked out the spoon from his grasp and hit him on the head. “You’re just naming attractive black men you know I like! It’s not going to work! You’re still in big trouble!”

Achilles laughed, bright and loud. The bus took a turn and they slid down the back seat with the momentum.

“You’re so lucky Briseis is my cousin and my mom would kill me if I murdered her,” Patroclus leaned back in his seat, bumping his head against the back window. “And you’re lucky I’ve known you since birth, or else I would be dumping your ass on the street.”

“Aw, come on, babe.” Achilles curled around his middle, watching the spoon carefully. “You know you love me.”

He made a noise like he had to puke. Achilles punched him in the thigh. Patroclus raised the spoon and the athlete yelped before it even hit him.

“Okay! You win!”

Patroclus laughed.

“The mighty Achilles,” he lowered his voice mockingly. “Brought low by a spoon. You’re so lame, dude.”

Achilles pouted and Patroclus had to look away. It was too fucking cute.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, looking outside the windows to make sure they had not missed their stop in their squabbling. Once his heart rate was back to normal, Patroclus looked down at his best friend. His braid was completely destroyed and the tips of his ears were pink. His long lashes fluttered with each blink as he stared, oblivious, across from him. He was still laying on Patroclus’ lap. He put a hand in the golden hair and took out the braid.

“I’ll do it,” he sighed, raking his fingers through the knots. “But you owe me.”

Achilles hummed softly, always turning into a sun-soaked cat whenever his hair was played with.

“You’re buying me Breath of the Wild,” he told him. Achilles squawked. “Nope, it’s my fee. Fake boyfriend with the best Zelda game ever made, or no boyfriend and sadness.”

“Told you,” Achilles huffed, trying to sound annoyed and smug at the same time. “You’re ruthless.”

* * *

 

The notebook in his hands read “Ground Rules”. Achilles threw it over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Patroclus made to raise his hand, but he was sans spoon. And he wasn’t about to throw his new game at his best friend. He’d never get it back.

“You’re no fun, Patroclus.” He tied on his gym shoes and purposefully pulled his work shirt off and tossed it over the notebook. “We don’t need rules. It’ll be fine. Just look at me like I’m your Idris Elba phone lockscreen and we’ll be golden.”

Patroclus tossed a pillow at his head. Achilles simply stepped aside and pulled on an old tshirt.

“L-Leave Idris out of this.” He looked away from his arms, unable to properly speak. “I need rules to function and you _definitely_ need rules to behave.”

“I hate rules.”

“I know, honey, I know.”

Achilles’ ears were pink once again, his face annoyed. Patroclus grinned, all teeth.

“Humor me,” Patroclus said. “If we were actually dating, I’d want to make some ground rules anyway. I’m giving this my all, Achilles,” He raised his voice and his best friend met his eyes over his gym bag. “I want you to be happy and have your girl friends. I just need think out loud, okay?”

The athlete nodded and sat down on his bed next to Patroclus. He opened his hands, gesturing for him to continue.

“Rule number one,” Patroclus grabbed the notebook and dug into Achilles’ side table for a pen. “Um.”

Achilles flopped back on his bed at his pause.

“Oh my god.”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

“Just don’t think,” Achilles poked him in the back, then yanked on the hoodie. “It’ll be fine. Everyone already thought we were dating. Just act normal. And don’t punch me if I hold your hand suddenly, or whatever.”

Patroclus glared at him, falling back with him from the yanking.

“Rule number one,” he repeated.

“Okay, rule number one.” Achilles grabbed the notebook and pen. He scribbled quickly, away from Patroclus’ eyes. “Don’t fall for me.”

“Oh my god!” Patroclus punched him in the ribs and Achilles wheezed happily.

“Rule number two!” He continued giggling, struggling away from Patroclus’ attempts to hit him and grab the notebook. “No sex!”

Patroclus climbed on top of him and wrestled away the notebook. All he had written though was ‘Achilles is so hot omg’ and drew a dick next to it.

“You’re a child.”

Achilles shrugged, still grinning. Patroclus sat back on his thighs and tried to scribble out his best friend’s writing.

“Actual rule number one,” He put the book on Achilles’ chest and started to write. “No lying to our parents.”

Achilles smile vanished and his face paled.

“Oh god, my mother.”

“Yeah.” Patroclus looked into his eyes, completely serious. “Your mother.”

“Your _father_.”

“I know. So, glad you approve of rule number one. We just gotta talk to Briseis before she tells her mom, who will inevitably tell my mom, who will tell your mom…”

“We’re fucked.”

“Rule number two. No fucking.” Achilles snorted. “No, I’m completely serious. No lies about our fake sex life. I don’t think I can handle Chiron looking me in the eye and thinking we are having sex. Even if we were actually dating, I wouldn’t want anyone to know anything either. It’s private and I hope you respect that.”

Achilles sat up and Patroclus had to hold onto his shirt to keep from falling off.

“Of course, I respect you completely Patroclus.”

Patroclus, suddenly aware that he was in Achilles’ lap and how hot the room suddenly felt, smiled weakly.

“Thanks.”

He got off slowly and sat next to him again, putting some distance between them now. It was starting to feel too real and Patroclus needed some air that didn’t smell like honeysuckle and sweat.

So, perhaps Achilles had a point. They didn’t act like normal friends and he couldn’t blame others for believing them to be dating. But it was just too impossible for him to believe. Achilles was miles away, on a whole other level, and untouchable.

Achilles burst his pity bubble by grabbing the notebook from his hands. His face was soft, knowing, and full of affection. Patroclus felt his breath leave him.

“Come to the gym with me?”

And his dignity returned with those decidedly un-romantic words.

“Ugh,” He pushed away Achilles’ face with his hand and rolled over. “Not today.”

“You say that everyday.”

“Because you’re nuts and work out _everyday_.” Patroclus curled into Achilles thousands of pillows. “I work tomorrow morning and I don’t want to be cleaning out dog cages with sore legs.”

“Excuses!” Achilles laid on top of him, crushing him into the mattress. Patroclus wheezed pathetically, his leg going numb.

“You’re too fat, get off!”

“Rude! It’s all muscle, baby!” He pulled back his sleeve and flexed over Patroclus. He started laughing when Patroclus groaned loudly. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“You’re the ruthless one,” Patroclus grabbed a pillow and swatted Achilles across the head. The athlete went down with an ‘oof’ of surprise. “You never give up.”

“Nope.” Achilles popped back up, reminding Patroclus of a poptart springing up from a toaster. “I wanna show off my fake boyfriend, anyway.”

Patroclus frowned and grabbed another pillow.

“You just want to show off in front of the rugby team.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Patroclus refused to look at his cute face any longer. He smothered him with a pillow.

* * *

 

Slipping on his lifting gloves, Patroclus looked in the mirror of the gym and struggled with his straps. Behind him, Achilles was doing his customary pull-ups, face pink in the exertion.

“T-Thirty…. Fiveeeee….”

Patroclus felt his stomach swoop with an intense heat. They hadn't worked out together in a few weeks and he’d forgotten just how strong Achilles was. Patroclus still struggled with ten pull-ups.

The rugby player dropped gracefully at forty. Patroclus was still messing with his gloves.

“Need help?” Achilles asked, shaking out his arms. The veins on his arms were pulling against his skin. Patroclus swallowed, finding Ajax watching them from where he was curling sixty pounds with little effort.

“Uh, thanks.” He offered his gloves and Achilles pulled the fabric over his fingers and snapped the velcro shut.

He winked and moved over to Ajax, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

Patroclus let out a breath and forced himself to pay attention. The rugby team thought they were dating and so far, nothing had happened. Except for the texts he received when they arrived at the gym, asking about anal and if Achilles was any good. Patroclus never responded.

He pulled two forty-fives together on his bar on both sides. To be safe, he set up to the mirror closest to the rack if he needed a quick rescue.

After the first set, his heart picked up and sweat gathered on his spine, down his shorts.

Looking wistfully around the gym, waiting until his next set and till his quads stopped shaking, Patroclus messed with his gloves. He’d forgotten his headphones at Achilles’ place during their squabbling and watched everyone jam into their own.

Except for Achilles, who said the music distracted him. Which, Patroclus had to admit, was probably true. Achilles listened to trash.

His best friend instead was picking up the smallest of their rugby team, a freshman he didnt recognize. Achilles began to laugh as the boy held onto his hand for dear life as he was curled.

Achilles looked to him for approval, doing his best to show off. Admittedly, Patroclus was impressed. But he would never let Achilles know.

He rolled his eyes and went back to his sets.

After an hour of ignoring Achilles’ curling teammates and doing push ups during handstands, Patroclus knew his time of peace was almost up. He could see the frustration in the athletes face when Patroclus feigned obliviousness for the final time. Achilles never did well being ignored.

Patroclus put away his weights calmly, trying to hurry before Achilles exploded in childish rage. Behind him, the blond sat on a bench where his bar was loaded with over three hundred pounds. He looked pissed off, red, and petulant.

Patroclus joined him after finally finishing his workout. He felt slightly guilty, but mostly amused.

Achilles didn’t look him in the eye when he walked up to the bar behind him.

“That’s a lot of weight,” Patroclus commented offhandedly.

“It’s nothing.” Achilles responded, his words tight and quick.

“Okay.” Patroclus didn’t argue. “I’ll spot you.”

“No need,” Achilles laid down and readied to pulled to bar off the handles. “I got this. You would know though, if you ever came to the gym with me, that three hundred is nothing now.”

“Is that so?” Patroclus could feel his inner pettiness rising at Achilles’ childish reponse. “Sorry, _babe,_ that I haven’t cleared my schedule for you lately.”

“You’re being a bad boyfriend,” Achilles hissed quietly, dropping the weight to his chest and back up again towards the rack.

“Oh, I’m a bad boyfriend?” Patroclus said back, voice dropping low. Ajax was staring openly now.

“Y-Yes!” Achilles let out a huge gust of breath, pushing the bar back up in the air again. His arms were shaking.

“You’ve been prancing all over this gym today practically screaming ‘notice me, Patroclus!’ instead of actually talking to me. You wanted me to come with you and when I actually work out, you’re mad?”

Achilles’ frown disappeared in a second, his face flowing through twenty emotions at once. Confusion, hurt, disappointment, guilt, back to anger again.

“You ignored me! It’s a two way street, dude.” Achilles was struggling to breathe as he rested the weight mostly on his chest to speak. He grit his teeth viciously and pushed up the bar a final time, setting it back in the rack.

“I was doing my workout!” Patroclus crossed his arms. “Not everything is about you, Achilles.”

The blond whipped his head around, the braid Patroclus had put it in now pointless. He looked like he might scream. But then he deflated.

Achilles stood and shook out his arms tiredly. His voice was soft and hurt.

“I just wanted to spend time with you.”

He grabbed Patroclus’ still gloved hand. Not forgetting their lie, Patroclus blinked dumbly and watched Ajax from the corner of his eye.

“Can’t I want to impress my boyfriend?” Achilles grinned crookedly, finally catching his eye.

“It’s allowed,” Patroclus sighed and struggled to find the right words. He wasn’t sure if the fight was real or not, anymore. Or if Achilles knew Ajax was eavesdropping, purposefully turning into something else. “But I’m also allowed to be apart from you.”

Achilles frowned.

“Nope.” He popped the word like bubble gum. “Not anymore.”

Patroclus gave him an unimpressed look. His best friend grinned, his anger forgotten.

“You’re mine now, Patroclus.” He pulled him closer and Patroclus nearly fell into the bar of weights.

Instead, he fell into Achilles’ lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall i can't even BEGIN with these two BABIES


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy pride month : )

Achilles has a brilliant purple eye and Patroclus does not regret it all.

Maybe a little bit. But the kiss had surprised him, pissed him off, and melted him all at once. Unable to deal with all of those feelings, and his best friends wet lips against his own, Patroclus had punched him.

Achilles had yelped loudly and the entire gym had gone silent. Ajax had dropped his water bottle and swooped down protectively over his teammate. And Patroclus stomped out.

He should have made rule number three ‘no kissing’, but instead he’d made it ‘no cuddling in public’ which was kind of stupid of him. They cuddled on movie nights, like they had ever since they were kids. Achilles was warm and Patroclus seemed to always be an ice cube. Plus, the only way to keep Achilles quiet during a movie was to have a firm hand over his mouth the entire time.

So now he was seated in Briseis’ apartment, watching YouTube tutorials on dutch braids because learning calmed him. And he hoped learning a new braid would be a good apology to Achilles.

His cousin, however, was not paying attention. She continue to cackle obnoxiously, begging him to relay the story over again and again.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” she wheezed. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks for that by the way.” Patroclus glared at her, pausing the very confusing video. “Odysseus knows it’s a lie because he called me out on it before I was even aware. Ajax thinks I’m an asshole, the whole rugby team probably wants to use my guts for their shoelaces by now, and Achilles kissed me!”

“I totally get why you’re upset,” she snorted, unable to hold back. “But honestly, this is the best thing I’ve ever done and you can’t take that away from me.”

She flipped her dark hair, freshly braided and tried to suppress her wince of pain through her giggles. This time, her mother had added length and golden rings throughout. Patroclus was in love with it and wondered if Achilles would sit still long enough for him to try something similar.

“Watch me, bitch.” He deadpanned.

“You gave him a _black eye_.” Briseis fell on her back, kicking her legs in the air wildly. “Nothing will ever beat this joke. I swear, sometimes, I’m too smart for my own good. You should have seen those girl’s faces when I dropped the bomb.” She sat back up and grabbed Patroclus’ hands. “Oh no, Achilles is gay? He has a boyfriend?”

Patroclus pulled his hands away.

“He has a black twink boyfriend?” She continued to mock him and Patroclus turned back to his video. “The horror! The scandal!”

“You’re having way too much fun with this.” He sighed and played the video again. His fingers were pulsing in pain from the punch and he itched to soothe them through his best friend’s blond hair.

“I did you a favor,” Briseis hit the spacebar on her laptop. Patroclus whined in protest. “You’re not subtle, cousin.”

“Hmm, nope, not listening.” He hit the spacebar again.

Briseis frowned and snapped the laptop shut.

“Hey!”

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Patroclus.” She straightened and grabbed his chin. “He kissed you! No straight boy does that! Even white boys know not to do that nonsense.”

Patroclus rubbed the back of his neck, taking his chin from her grasp.

“We’re super close, Bri. We literally still take showers together and he’s seen me naked more times than I can count. I would have noticed if he was… you know.”

Briseis huffed impatiently.

“I’ve known you two fuckers since you were born,” she said. “I held you in my arms when I was five years old and you wouldn’t stop screeching unless Thetis put you back with Achilles.”

“Yes, please continue to tell me how useless and gay I am.”

“Not only you, though. Achilles cried when auntie took us to Disneyland and said he couldn’t come. He threw a literal fit and broke down the front door when he was _seven_.”

Patroclus shuffled uncomfortably.

“You gotta admit though, Disneyland is fun as hell and even as an adult I would break a door too if I couldn’t go with my friends.”

“Oh my god, you’re so useless.” Briseis scrubbed her hands over her face in frustration. “It took me a long time to figure out I liked girls. Even more so to come out to you, mom and auntie. Give Achilles some time to figure it out, if he hasn’t already.”

“But… I punched him in the eye.”

She let out a bark of laughter.

“Love is blind, cousin, love is fucking blind.”

* * *

 

Chiron was not happy with him. Like, at all. His star player had a shiner the size of a sand dollar and Chiron was not about to let Patroclus freeze in his two sweaters on the sidelines.

It was Tuesday, so practice was usually pretty chill, but today Chiron was not having it. The boys were still going through conditioning, which was basically the worst thing ever. Patroclus remembered missing half of conditioning one semester, and promptly puking during a game. Chiron had never let him live it down, and neither did Achilles, so when he quit the team, Patroclus counted himself lucky. But today, Chiron had his eyes set on his dumbass.

“Patroclus!” He shouted and immediately, Patroclus felt his balls rush back into his body. “Over here!” He pointed to the field and Patroclus swallowed.

Achilles, finished with his laps before the rest of his team, paused in his stretching. His good eye was wide with surprise.

Unable to ignore his old coach, Patroclus walked over cautiously.

Chiron’s thick brown sweater smelled like horses, parchment, and that new ball smell Patroclus hated. He refused to scrunch his nose at the scent, but it was a hardwon battle.

“Yes, coach?”

His usual demeanor was calm, soft, and slightly terrifying because he just seemed to know _everything_. Today, however, someone had pissed in his cheerios. Or more accurately, punched his golden boy.

“You looked bored. Why don’t you join the boys? I’m sure Achilles wouldn’t mind.”

Achilles, having heard his name, snapped his head back to his teammates to feign ignorance. He was a little butt hurt from the punch still, Patroclus knew. But his dutch braid was flawless and Achilles always liked looking the best.

Patroclus didn’t dare protest. He just picked up the pace next to Agamemnon and kept his mouth shut. His shoes weren’t the best for running, and his legs were sore from his workout, but he had an hour before work. Best to just take the punishment.

But a second later and he was stumbling into Menelaus, smashing his nose in his back.

“Watch it!”

Patroclus paused his running, holding his nose. Agamemnon looked smug as he ran past. Achilles was next to him in a heartbeat.

“Are you okay?” He pulled away his hand and inspected his pulsing nose. “It’s not bleeding.”

“Agamemnon tripped me,” Patroclus batted his hands away and sniffed ruefully. “Asshole. Probably revenge for your black eye, but still.”

Achilles looked strange rolling just one eye, the other too puffed to even see movement. Patroclus felt guilt eat away at his insides.

“He’s such a prick. He only switched from football to rugby because his brother did.” Achilles gestured for him to keep running, Chiron watching them like a hawk. “Thinks he’ll make Captain this semester.” He snorted. “Yeah right. Over my dead body.”

Patroclus could practically see the waves of hatred oozing from Achilles. He was a bit surprised. His best friend usually had no problem with anyone to this degree. But he wasn’t about to complain. He felt embarrassed because he was tripped in front of his old teammates that didn’t need another reason to hate him.

“With you still here?” Patroclus struggled to keep up with the athlete. “He’s got no chance.”

“Aw,” Achilles cooed, slowing down to put an arm around his shoulders. “Thanks, babe.”

“Finished your lovers spat, then?” Ajax said, popping up from behind them.

Patroclus nearly jumped out of his sweaters.

“You shouldn’t punch him because you’re angry, Patroclus.” Ajax went on, not bothering to take hints from Achilles’ annoyed face to stop fucking talking. “He loves you very much and felt like shit after what he said.”

Achilles stopped running suddenly and Ajax slammed into his back. They both went tumbling into the dirt and Achilles immediately jumped on him, pulling him into a headlock. Patroclus kept running, unable to stop. His face was on fire.

Chiron was on them after a moment, looking tired of testosterone and life.

The freshman from the gym--the one Achilles curled, Patroclus’ brain helpfully supplied--caught up with him and they shared a look.

“You’re Patroclus, right? Achilles’ boyfriend?” He began boldly. Patroclus couldn’t get rid of his flustered look fast enough. The boy smiled knowingly.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Cool. I’m Automedon.” Patroclus nodded, trying to memorize the name. He was terrible with names. “I started this semester. Achilles was nice enough to invite me to the team once he saw me barrel through the cafeteria to the chocolate milk before the footballers could drain it all.”

“Oh, you’re the freshman!” Patroclus smiled widely. “Achilles told me about you. Saw you break through a line of hungry linebackers. Impressive. They always hoard the chocolate milk.”

Automedon shrugged calmly, looking slightly abashed but mostly happy.

“I’ve worked with horses my whole life,” he commented offhandedly. They lapped the track and passed the wrestling boys once more. Chiron was about to blow his whistle. They sped up. “Thousand pound animals or two hundred pound assholes?”

Patroclus couldn’t relate. The last time he’d seen a horse, it had taken a bite out of his hand and squashed him into a fence with its butt. Achilles had laughed his ass off, but then promptly fell off his horse’s back and into the mud. Briseis then cackled from safety and took pictures.

It had been over six years since and Patroclus wasn’t eager to meet another horse.

“Honestly, chocolate milk isn’t worth bodily harm.” Patroclus said, winded and slowing down. He didn’t have to run for weightlifting. He just had to do a million squats until his knees turned to dust.

“I mean you can have your opinion, but you’re wrong.” Automedon said, not winded in the slightest.

Patroclus couldn’t hold back his snort, caught off guard. He nearly tripped again, but this time by his own grace.

Practice tapered off after another five minutes of Ajax and Achilles wrestling, Chiron blowing his whistle till his face was red, and Agamemnon throwing Patroclus rude gestures. Automedon gave him a bro-nod of mutual departure and Patroclus left the field for work.

* * *

 

Covered in dog hair, Patroclus rolled in Achilles bed and waited for the inevitable complaining. Their shared apartment was small, but Patroclus had his own bedroom. Yet as tired as he was, Patroclus was still a little shit and made the extra six foot trek to Achilles’ room.

His best friend wasn’t back from his last classes yet, and if he didn’t know any better, Achilles was probably going to the gym first anyway.

Patroclus had plenty of time.

His olive sheets were always halfway off the mattress so Patroclus pulled them close and let the smell of honeysuckle envelope him. The mattress was a gift from his mother, which Achilles had thought was a shitty gift, but Patroclus had been jealous. It was a literal cloud, covered in more pillows than he could count. It was king-sized, taking up an entire wall of the small bedroom. Which worked out well, because Achilles liked to spread and take up as much room as possible, more often than not ending upside down in the morning. Patroclus would sometimes weedle his way into a corner of the heavenly bed and Achilles allowed it. He always did.

Now that he had a moment away from Achilles, his cousin, and the dogs at work, Patroclus sank into the mattress and thought hard about everything.

Achilles was his fake boyfriend. Briseis was both the best and worst lesbian ever. And he was too gay to function.

He wished with his entire being that Briseis was right. Maybe Achilles was hella gay, but just a little slow on the uptake. He’d always been a more black and white thinker. It was either wrong or right, yes or no, good or bad. Perhaps it just didn’t occur to Achilles that maybe their friendship could be more.

Patroclus turned further into the bed and was swallowed by the pillows.

No, Achilles wasn’t stupid. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, like always.

Except he apparently danced on weekends with women twice his age, lied about his relationship status to make friends, and swooned over small freshmen and chocolate milk.

But that _dress._

Patroclus snapped up, throwing the pillows all over the room and shot to his closet. Achilles had the master bedroom, as per their agreement for how rent was divided. Achilles paid more for the bigger room, Patroclus less because he practically lived in a closet (ha).

So he threw open the walk-in closet doors and snooped.

There was absolutely no organization to be had. There was a pile of clothes to his left and another to his right. They both looked dirty, but a few pieces looked clean. Some of his more expensive clothes were hanging up, like the suit he wore to his father’s second wedding, and the pants he wore for job interviews. Next to those hung his game jerseys and the sweatshirt Patroclus brought him back from Disneyland almost twelve years ago. His heart melted at the sight.

But a shock of white against his mostly grey and yellow wardrobe finally drew Patroclus’ eye. The dress was hanging behind his high school graduation gown, almost completely hidden. If Patroclus had been looking for something else, he never would have noticed.

He pulled the dress from the hanger and nearly stopped breathing.

It was sheer, mostly, only solid if bunched together. The fabric slid through his fingers like water and he felt almost like a criminal as he brought it into the bedroom. It was confusing, at first. The neck twisted oddly and Patroclus wasn’t quite sure how it was supposed to be put on. He remembered the video, the open stomach and back. He thought about the necklace and earrings he saw too.

He wanted to see those up close. The sapphires that popped in his golden hair, the necklace which bounced against his hard stomach.

Patroclus waddled to his dresser, looking for anything similar. Just some loose change, a pack of gum, and a few random Cheez-Its.

Steeling himself, he opened the first drawer and dove in. He pulled apart socks, ridiculous Spongebob boxers, and a few ties. Next, he pawed through his mess of thrown shirts and shorts. Nothing.

The final drawer was just random things. A light bulb, the spoon from Monday, a candy bar that was probably expired, and a few old sweatshirts. He pushed those aside.

He smacked his knuckles on the wood so hard he felt his skin break. Patroclus slammed on his ass and cradled his hand as he tried to calm himself.

Underneath those sweatshirts was a picture of Thetis.

She looked severe as always, as if daring him to continue going through her son’s things. Patroclus gingerly put back the clothes, shut the drawers, and hung up the dress. Properly scolded, he laid back in bed and sighed. His knuckles were throbbing angrily.

He smacked his head back on a pillow and yelped. He’d hit something sharp.

Rifling under the sheets, he grasped the object and pulled it out.

And promptly dropped it on his face in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are the chapters getting shorter or is that just me?


	4. Chapter 4

Odysseus looked too amused for his own good.

Narrowing his eyes, Patroclus pulled his coffee cup closer. The campus cafe was packed this time of year and he had trouble focusing on everything Odysseus did. He felt lost in the conversation already. The older man had contacted him immediately after his discovery, asking for a cup of coffee and some friendly conversation. Patroclus had responded after gathering his bearings and what was left of his sanity.

“I’ve heard some pretty interesting things about you this week,” he said after a tense moment. “But I’m more interested in what you have to say.”

“Is this about the mess that is my fake love-life?”

“Yes.”

Patroclus huffed.

“Briseis started it as a joke at the restaurant. It caught and Achilles got swept up in female friendship.”

“Ah,” Odysseus nodded sagely. “Which is why your reaction on Monday was so…”

“Yeah.”

“Understandable. I’ve only ever seen this happen in a Hallmark movie. Penelope has a weakness, and I’m afraid I am not yet immune to her whims. Female friendship is valuable and practically unheard of for men like Achilles.”

Patroclus pulled an annoyed face and hid his sharp tongue in his coffee cup.

“Women can be silly,” he said.

Patroclus didn’t hide his disappointment in those words.

“This isn’t about women, who are all queens, by the way.” He smiled internally because Odysseus looked a little surprised. “Achilles just thinks because he’s so attractive, he can’t have normal relationships with women. It’s all him and his big head.”

“Fair point,” Odysseus tipped his own coffee in regards to his words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean how it sounded. I love women and everything about them.”

Patroclus didn’t take his opinion to heart. A straight man talking about women never had anything good to say, he’d learned.

Pushing aside Odysseus’ view of women, Patroclus sat forward.

“Just don’t tell anyone, okay? The whole rugby team already is out for my blood because I punched him in the face yesterday.”

“So it is true! I haven’t seen Achilles yet today.” He let out a cackle. “I don’t know the whole story. I was hoping you could tell me.”

Patroclus sat back and mumbled curses into his cup. After a minute, he looked around the cafe. Students and professors were all either bent over textbooks and laptops, or fast asleep sitting in chairs.

“We were at the gym, kind of got into it a little. He was being a little baby. But he always weasels his way out somehow. And so… I, uh, punched him.”

“Unprovoked?”

Patroclus felt warm underneath his jacket and hat.

“Not entirely.”

“What did he do?”

“He kissed me.” He crossed his arms. “Asshole thought he could win the fight and it’d be over because he kissed me.” Patroclus barked out a sharp, unamused laugh. “Not this fake boyfriend, it won’t work.”

Odysseus hummed thoughtfully, hand on his chin. He looked pensive.

“And that’s the only reason you punched him.” He offered. “Because he was playing dirty.”

“Well, yeah.” Patroclus frowned. “Why else?”

“Maybe because you didn’t imagine your first kiss with him under false pretenses.”

Patroclus’ eye twitched. Outwardly, he was pissed. Internally, he was hiding underneath a blanket.

“I don’t appreciate your implication.”

“I didn’t mean for you to.” Odysseus said smoothly. “Only someone who has known Achilles for as long as you have can truly understand him. He’s beautiful and perfect at most things. He’s also terribly human and can make bad decisions. I know it’s annoying to hear from an outside third party, but I know you love him and he loves you.”

Patroclus swallowed.

“I don’t know why he’s let this charade go on,” the older man continued. “He doesn’t like liars and I’m struggling to believe he’d ask you to lie for him. But, on the other hand, he’s hopeless when it comes to you. He treasures you above all else.”

He gripped his coffee like his life depended on it. Hearing these words from Odysseus, who almost always was lying, was hard to believe. But he also never wanted to hear anything else.

“Perhaps this is just a little game to make you realize his feelings. He’s scared, Patroclus. He’s masculine perfection. The expectations on his shoulders far outweigh what he should be carrying.”

“Masculine perfection?” Patroclus snorted, having to break the tone of the serious conversation with sarcasm. He was breaking out in hives.

“You know what I mean.” Odysseus looked fond. “He’s just a young boy who has known nothing but what society expects… what his mother expects. Let him off the hook.”

“He can’t get away with being a little shit monster, either.” Patroclus argued. “Coming out took me years. Thetis already hated me, but now I have no doubt she’s bugged our apartment just in case since she found out. I know why he’d be hesitant to do anything because of his mother. But… it’s not likely, Odysseus. I’ve known him for so long, I can barely see where he ends and I begin.”

“And that’s the beauty of it. You’re two bodies in one soul.”

“Not what I meant,” he pushed through the flush rising. “I just mean… he’s so bright. Sometimes I forget to blink.”

He was out of coffee. Without the distraction, Patroclus felt trapped in a corner. He itched and begged for an out. Mentally though, he was drawing a blank.

Odysseus grinned.

“I’ll stop torturing you. Again, food for thought. Achilles is smart and would never do anything without reason. I don’t think he’d ask such a huge favor of you for female friendship, as wonderful as it is.”

“I’ll chew on it,” he said quietly. “And anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m meeting masculine perfection in twenty minutes across campus and I need to catch the bus.”

Odysseus stood and gave him a hug. Patroclus awkwardly accepted it.

“I hope next time we meet, it’s at their dance rehearsal. Penelope made him a new dress and I think you’ll approve.”

“If you don’t send me that video,” he raised his fist. “You’re next.”

“Heard.”

* * *

 

The sapphire earrings were in his pocket.

They’d fallen on his face earlier, too surprised to hold onto them properly. It was one thing to learn Achilles wore jewelry and dresses. It was an entirely other thing to learn he _enjoyed it._

There was no other explanation. Why hide the earrings under the pillow? Achilles had pierced his ears their freshman year following a dare from the previous captain of the rugby team. Patroclus seemed to have forgotten, conveniently. So, he obviously was able to wear them.

He patted his pocket every few minutes, reassuring himself they were still in there.

The sapphires weren’t alone, but surrounded by a circle of dangling, smaller diamonds and a gold chain. It looked like a rope of stars and Patroclus wished his own ears were pierced. They were beautiful and he couldn’t blame Achilles. He had great taste in jewelry, if expensive.

The moment he left the bus, however, and stepped onto the sidewalk, he was tackled. Hand flying from his pocket, Patroclus grabbed a fistful of blond hair.

“Missed you!”

“It’s been like maybe ten hours!”

Achilles hugged him closely, a hand on the back of his head. His nose dipped into Patroclus’ collar.

“Ten hours too long. You give the best hugs.”

Patroclus felted embarrassed, but too comfortable to let go. People around him were struggling to get off the bus without jostling them.

“Come on, let’s get out of the way.” Patroclus pulled Achilles away from the bus stop.

“How was work?” Achilles grabbed onto his elbow instead and led the way to the convenience store on the corner. “Anyone get adopted?”

Patroclus shrugged and pulled Achilles back before he could get run over by a passerby.

“Nobody from my ward,” he said. “But I think a few puppies did. It was a pretty normal day. How about you? Chiron forgive you yet?”

Achilles refused his gaze. He made a ‘ehhhh’ noise.

“Ajax challenged me to a race after I kicked his ass. Chiron allowed it. I won.” He huffed moodily. “Now he won’t talk to me, he’s so salty.”

Remembering Ajax’s words, Patroclus felt the mental hives return. In his brain, bees buzzed loudly, drowning out his common sense.

They entered the convenience store and nodded to the clerk. Achilles immediately went for the strawberry protein powder. Patroclus pulled a face.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention.” Achilles turned around, holding onto two big containers of the powder. “My dad called me today and said he sent us something.”

“Peleus sent us something?” Patroclus grabbed one of the containers and put it back on the shelf. “Why? Did he say anything else?”

“Not really.” Achilles made to grab it again. Patroclus stepped in the way and pushed him to the counter. “He started to tell me that same story about my famous cousin or something again. I mostly tuned him out after that. Plus, I had a test I had to cram for. Oh wait,” he dug in his heels as they passed the beauty aisle. “I want more hair ties.”

Patroclus smiled.

“Did you like the new braid?”

“I loved it!” Achilles bounced over to the scrunchies and hair clips. “Penelope has been trying to get me to curl it for weeks now. But I sent her a snap of the braid and now she demands your hands for dance rehearsal.”

Patroclus felt his eye linger on a headband of gold leaves and struggled to walk away.

“I had to take it out, though. Ajax yanked a lot of it out this morning.” He rubbed his scalp with his free hand. “Still a little tender. But, yeah, Penelope is also kind of pissed because my eye is purple and it doesn’t match our color scheme.”

“Well, next time don’t be a little shit head.”

Achilles glared at him.

“I did ask you not to punch me the other day when we made the rules.”

“You said if you held my hand, don’t punch you. You kissed me.”

“You didn’t say that was off limits, babe.” He smirked. “Loopholes.”

“Fine print bullshit, and you know it.”

Achilles pretended to think hard.

“Hmm, maybe I’ll forgive you if you let me buy two containers of protein powder.”

“Don’t push your luck, honey.” Patroclus simpered and pushed him to the counter again. “You’re still in big trouble. And have terrible taste.”

* * *

 

Dance rehearsal, unfortunately, didn’t require dresses. The ladies wore workout clothes and Achilles copied. Except now, he was taking off his shirt.

Patroclus turned around and found a grinning Odysseus.

“This is all your fault,” he hissed. “I don’t know how, but it is.”

“I wish I could take all the credit,” the man shrugged. “But alas, there is a higher power at work here.”

“I’m literally about to punch you in the nuts, so choose your next words carefully.”

Odysseus raised his hands in surrender.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think everyone has a boner too.”

Patroclus groaned and turned back around.

Mistake.

Achille was stretching beside Helen, hair loosely tied back over his shoulder blades. Each movement caught the studio lights and Patroclus wanted to lie down in the street outside.

Catching his eye in the mirror, Achilles waved brightly. Patroclus felt like dying when he heard all the girls giggle and call him a ‘cute boyfriend’.

“So, they think it’s real? You didn’t tell your wife?” He whispered to Odysseus.

“Penelope figured it out herself. She’s smarter than me. And I asked her not to share that information with her sisters.”

Patroclus let out a breath.

“I’d like to apologize in advance though.”

“What? Why?”

“Patroclus,” Penelope spoke up and waved her hand over. “Come here please.”

Dread curled in his belly. Even with their week being over and not getting caught by anyone, Patroclus was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Penelope had the same look on her face her husband shared when he thought of something particularly devious.

Shoe? Meet floor.

“Could you help us out please? Achilles is still a bit too rough with my sisters.” She pointed to a spot marked with tape on the floor. “Just stand there.”

Patroclus couldn’t say no. He couldn’t form a single thought other than, “Fuck”.

“Achilles, stand up please.” The athlete obeyed in an instant. “Grab his waist and stand there for a moment. Yes, like that. Now, move your hand up his arm. Come now, don’t be shy, I’m sure he doesn’t mind you being touchy.”

Patroclus refused to look at his best friend. Achilles did as he was told.

“No, your other hand. There, yes,” Penelope circled them. “Helen, Clym, see how he’s moving?”

And so they stood there to demonstrate and for Achilles to limit his strength. Patroclus didn’t understand how it helped with dancing, but stood quiet and still. Achilles hand left a burning trail across his body.

“Now, I want you to grab him and dip him. Like in the second part of the song, you know?” Penelope demonstrated quickly with Odysseus. Her sisters clapped. “You pull on us a little too much and I want you to practice while I work with them on a few other things.”

Achilles nodded seriously and Patroclus looked into the studio mirror. He felt like they were in Dirty Dancing.

“Oh lover boy,” he wanted purr and crawl across the floor. And maybe have wild sex in a cabin, enter a dance competition, and mess up his blond hair as Achilles’ face mapped down his chest to his waist with his lips.

Then gravity started to work again and Patroclus was dipped.

He yelped and grabbed onto Achilles’ arms.

“I’m sorry!” Achilles pulled him back on his feet.

“I wasn’t paying attention, that was me,” Patroclus rushed to reassure him. He couldn’t stop seeing Patrick Swayze instead of Achilles’ worried face. It wasn’t helping.

“Sorry, I’ll warn you.” He adjusted his grip accordingly. “Okay, ready this time?”

Patroclus nodded.

He was dipped smoothly and deeply. Achilles didn’t put his face in his chest, which was such a bummer, but he did snap Patroclus back into his own, which alright. He’d take it.

“Better?”

Patroclus felt breathless.

“You yank a little bit too hard. Please don’t pull my arm out of its socket.”

Achilles giggled and nodded.

He tried again and Patroclus pulled his head back dramatically, a little bit too into it. However this time, Achilles pulled him back in further away. They weren’t touching apart from their hands.

“Again,” Penelope walked by and ordered. Achilles took a breath and did as he was told. “Don’t be afraid to touch each other.” She smiled. “I know you know how.”

Patroclus felt a little bit of whiplash by the third and fourth dips.

“Relax,” he whispered to his best friend. Achilles looked frustrated and like he was in pain. “You’ll get it.”

“Sorry if I’m hurting you. Thanks for helping me.” He turned his face away shyly. “And thanks for not making fun of me.”

“What, for dancing?” Patroclus was shocked. “I make fun of you for a lot of things, but dancing will never be one of them. You’re a very beautiful dancer.”

Achilles turned pink. Patroclus cleared his throat.

“Again.”

* * *

 

Achilles popped his head through the door, hair wrapped in a towel. On his best friend’s bed, unashamed and too comfortable to be self conscious, Patroclus put down his phone.

“My dad’s assistant just texted me. She said the package he sent us should be here within the hour.”

“Did she say what is was?”

“Nope.” Achilles shrugged. “Just said I’d have to sign for it and to stay home for the next while to make sure I get it.”

“Weird.” Patroclus spun the phone in his fingers. “What if it’s a puppy?”

Achilles beamed.

“Oh my god, that’d be amazing!”

“But why would he send us a puppy? It’s October. What’s the special occasion?” He sat up as Achilles tore off the towel and shook his hair. “You’re already practically a dog. You shed, shake water off you, eat literal garbage.”

“Strawberry protein shakes are _not_ garbage.”

“Noticed how you didn’t deny the first two.” Patroclus laid back down and closed his eye tiredly. “It’s probably not a dog, Peleus isn’t that spontaneous.”

“Don’t crush my dreams bro,” Achille whined and crawled into bed next to him. He slung an arm over Patroclus’ stomach. He let out a breath of pain at the heaviness.

Not a moment later and there was a knock at the door. Achilles disappeared faster than Patroclus could react.

He listened for a moment before going back to his fantasy of Dirty Dancing. Achilles in a black shirt, open to the belly, sleeves rolled up. Himself curled around the dancer as they moved heavily, hotly, and all over each other. Oh yikes, he opened his eyes and willed himself to calm down.

Achilles burst into the room with the gift.

“I don’t know what this is!”

Patroclus sat up and tilted his head.

“A… fruit basket?”

Achilles put it on the bed and pulled the card from the side.

“I can’t read this, I need glasses.”

Patroclus pulled it from his hands and squinted.

“No, it’s just really bad handwriting. It just says, ‘Finally’.”

“Finally what?”

But Patroclus knew. Stomach dropped to his toes, blood cold, Patroclus stared blankly at the card.

“Finally…” Achilles said it over and over again. “Finally… Finally… what happened that’s finally happened?”

Patroclus pushed him off the bed with his foot. Achilles grabbed his sheets on the way down and screamed.

“Hey!”

“We forgot rule one!” Patroclus waved the card over him. “No lying to parents! Peleus found out and thinks we’re dating! Oh my god!”

Achilles burst out laughing, looking torn between hysterics and relief.

“He sent us a fruit basket! Oh god, it’s arranged like a rainbow!” Patroclus yelled.

“That’s not too bad. At least his reaction is a fruit basket and not the lawyer coming to disown me.”

Patroclus couldn’t stop to appreciate Peleus’ lack of homophobic behavior. There was a bigger problem.

“Achilles… if Peleus knows, how long until Thetis finds out?”

His smile dropped instantly.   



End file.
